


Spicy

by yeaka



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Vignette, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Salt’s salty but at least Pepper’s grounded.
Relationships: Pepper/Salt
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	Spicy

The wait is grueling, kept apart over the rim of a giant basin that feels as large as the table itself, but there’s nothing to do but wait—Salt’s back is turned, so he can’t even see Pepper’s internal screaming, which comes out _so loud_. Then the metal clinks down like sawed-off trees, crashing to the porcelain floor, and everything’s turned topsy-turvy.

When Pepper’s righted again, he’s in the washed-clean center, next to Napkins and Ketchup and a few other miscellaneous new things that came in late and will never be as quintessential as Pepper’s missing partner. He has to cross the polished wood expanse to find the beautiful glass sculpture he’s looking for—shaped in ornate patterns that compliment his own, because they’re a _set_ , always have been and always will be. The Gods made them together, created them to _fit_ like nothing else, and the nook under Pepper’s arm is cavernously empty without Salt’s matching arm wrapped under it. But Salt’s back is still turned, gaze lost somewhere in the heavens, where the big bright sun blacks out to nothing.

Starlight streams in through the windows. It plays patterns across Salt’s shimmering back, catching on the crystalline granules inside that run through all of Salt’s veins. Their tiny rainbows are mesmerizing; Pepper could get lost in them for _hours_.

But Pepper doesn’t want to be confined to just far-off staring tomorrow, so he settles down next to the only seasoning his life’s ever needed. Salt looks stubbornly away, because Salt’s nothing if not sour. He’s beautiful, _delicious_ , intoxicating and addicting, but always comes with a caveat. Pepper only has an inkling of what happened but is still the first to say, “Sorry.”

“Whatever. I always knew this would happen anyway.”

Pepper doesn’t whistle over the sheer animosity but thinks of it. He sidles a little closer—Salt sidles away. Pepper lets a black fleck roll against Salt’s thigh, and Salt flicks it off the edge like the ashes of Pepper’s heart. 

“Is this because of Sugar?”

Salt spears him with a look that screams _yes_ , and it’s all Pepper can do to keep the exasperation out of every word. “That was a mistake, and you know it—”

“Easy to say after the fact.”

“Not _my_ mistake! And it only happened because they thought Sugar was _you_ —”

“Oh, so now I look like Sugar? Why don’t you just call me Baking Soda? Maybe I’m a bag of co—”

“I’m sorry, did you not see the look of sheer _horror_ when they realized the mistake? Do you really think I go with _Sugar_?”

Salt sniffs. Maybe the right person could mix them, _maybe_ , but only the Gods themselves could be so skillful. Mortals are doomed to the simple pleasures—Sugar alone, Ketchup with Mustard, _Salt with Pepper._ And Salt must know that, because the berating putters out as Salt glares into the distance. Pepper sends out another chunk; this time, Salt just ignores it.

Under a huff of bitter breath, he mutters, “ _Everybody_ likes Sugar better.”

“Then everybody’s an idiot; Sugar’s even more deadly than you are.”

Salt swats Pepper so hard that it _almost_ crosses the line from a playful lover’s push to the fury of a thousand suns. Pepper valiantly weathers the storm and insists, “And anyway, I don’t _go_ with Sugar. I go with _you_.”

Maybe Salt’s glossy surface is a little pink with emotion, or maybe it’s a passing car with coloured headlights outside the window.

Salt grumbles even quieter, “You make me sneeze anyway.”

“Well, you’re literally bad for me.”

“Only in excess!”

“I want you in excess! I want you all over me! I want to roll around in your overpowering goodness and lick you all over!”

Finally, for one very uncharacteristic moment, Salt appears speechless. Pepper stares into his timeless depths and _dares_ him to defy any of the truths Pepper just sprinkled in his tea. It is, of course, _possible_ for Salt to defy the Gods themselves and run off tomorrow with Oregano or something wild, or just go it alone and take Sugar’s place in a vat of pancakes. But Pepper knows Salt better than that. 

A single pure-white pebble rolls over to Pepper. Pepper picks it up and swallows it whole, making a point—it doesn’t matter if they stray into each other, because they may as well be one anyway, occasionally in varying amounts but usually vying to be equals. Salt takes the black stone Pepper left and does the same. 

It’s their blood pact, thicker than Ketchup. Salt leans on Pepper’s shoulder, right in the caved out hollow where he should be, and the universe is _right_ again.


End file.
